


A Timeless Christmas Carol

by Lyatt1941



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Charles Dickens probably would have loved Timeless, Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Jessica isn't Rittenhouse Trash, Lucy misses Amy, Memories, Mistletoe, Rufus is a Christmas Junkie, This is my homage to the Man Who Invented Christmas, Ugly Christmas Sweaters, Wyatt is a bit of a Grinch but he has his reasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-05 02:51:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16802206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyatt1941/pseuds/Lyatt1941
Summary: It's Christmas time and Wyatt isn't in the mood to celebrate, until he gets some help from an unexpected person.This takes place somewhere in a Season 1 AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I was planning on doing a whole mess of one-shots for Lyatt Christmas, but between the holidays, traveling to NYC and finishing Torrent, I haven't really had the time!! So I am doing this multi-chapter piece (hopefully I'll be able to finish it before Christmas) because I had this idea swirling around my head. I hope you enjoy it.

Jessica was dead, to begin with. 

That depressing and inescapable fact was what had driven Wyatt to forego the annual Mason Industries Christmas party and instead, find wintery solace in a bottle of Jack Daniels. Not that the City by the Bay was a wintery wonderland, but there was an icy cold chill in the air and so Wyatt tugged his coat closer and made his way across the parking lot to his parked Jeep. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Rufus’ voice called out to him from the open doorway. 

Sounds of laughter and music filtered into the otherwise quiet evening as Wyatt turned to face his friend and team mate, “I don’t do Christmas.” he said simply.

He didn’t. Christmas had never been a time of celebration for Wyatt. His entire childhood had been marred by the death of his mother, the alcoholic ravings of his sonofabitch father and…well, he was poor…dirt poor, and never one to take charity, Christmas had always been “just another day.” He wouldn’t have come to Mason at all this evening if it hadn’t been for Garcia Flynn. While everyone else had complained that Flynn was bound and determined to ruin Christmas by making them jump on Christmas Eve, Wyatt was just happy for something to do that didn’t involve Christmas carols, trees, or presents. A mission to another date, another point in time was the perfect way to escape the dread of the present, and so Wyatt was the only one who hadn’t complained when the call came in at 6AM. 

Unfortunately for Wyatt, the mission turned out to be a rather simple one. They had traveled back to keep Flynn from screwing up the “Boz Ball” a party held in honor of the literary genius, Charles Dickens when he came to visit New York City. It was a gathering held for the cream of the crop in New York…all of them under one roof and just as Lucy had feared, Flynn was already working on taking down the whole of the Park Theatre when they arrived. Wyatt had managed thwart Flynn’s efforts with minimal problems, thanks to Lucy’s ingenuity and unparalleled knowledge of the 19th century elite. Disaster thus averted, they were home within the space of just a few hours and so…Christmas was saved and Wyatt was back to square one, albeit with the further complication of sneaking out undetected.

Obviously, that hadn’t worked. 

“Well, then don’t think of it as a Christmas party.” Rufus suggested, “Think of it as a “we get to get drunk at work” party.” Wyatt rolled his eyes and shook his head as Rufus pleaded with him, “C’mon man, what else are you gonna do? Sit alone in your apartment like a Scrooge?”

“What’s it to you, Rufus?” Wyatt snapped back.

He shrugged, “I don’t know, I just hate the idea of anybody spending Christmas Eve alone…especially when they don’t have to.”

But he did have to. That’s why he was trying to avoid the prying eyes and sympathetic frowns from everyone in that place. It was no secret he was alone…no secret he was a widower…and that designation always earned him the annoying attention of do-gooders everywhere who wanted to make sure “he had someone to spend the holidays with.” 

Well, he had had someone…and he lost her…and it was his own damn fault. 

Wyatt sighed heavily, “I don’t like Christmas, okay.? Just leave me the hell alone.”

“Well, Bah Humbug to you, too.” Rufus spat right back. As Wyatt turned back to his Jeep, Rufus, desperately attempted another tactic to keep Wyatt from spending a miserable Christmas all by himself, “You should at least come in and say hello to Lucy. She’s here, you know?” and for extra measure he added, “And she didn’t bring Noah.”

Wyatt looked at Rufus in utter bewilderment, though deep down he was secretly pleased to hear that Lucy Preston was without her fake fiancé on a night reserved for close friends and loved ones. Before he allowed that little glimmer of satisfaction to take root, however, he shook it off as he reminded himself that her fiancé was a doctor and as such, probably worked on Christmas.

“Why would I care who she brings?” Wyatt asked in irritation.

Rufus shrugged, “I don’t know…I just thought that maybe you didn’t like the guy…ya know, since you’re always telling her she needs to break up with him.”

“That has nothing to do with…”Wyatt began, but Rufus cut him off with a wave of his hand. 

“Say no more, Ebenezer…I’m gonna go back inside where it’s fun. If you change your mind, we’ll be here.” Rufus added with a wink. 

Through the still open door, Wyatt could see Lucy standing with Jiya , laughing and smiling and looking positively radiant in a red sweater. It wasn’t one of those hideously ugly Christmas sweaters that Jessica used to be so fond of…and that everyone else, including Rufus, seemed to be donning at this party. No. She was dressed in a simple red cabled sweater and a pair of black pants. Wyatt silently approved her choice of wardrobe…not just because it didn’t offer him a painful reminder of Jessica, but because she seemed to be the only other person in that entire building who shared his distaste of the clichéd Christmas attire. 

He shook off the warm and familiar feeling that had begun creeping its way into his heart, attempting to wrap him up in a blanket of soft smiles, tight hugs, and dark brown eyes. 

No. No way in hell was he about to betray Jessica’s memory on Christmas by feeling familiar with Lucy. No way in hell was he about to get emotionally attached to anyone again...the pain in losing them was too much…it was better to stay aloof, isolated…alone. 

As the door to Mason finally swung closed, the warmth that had seemed to radiate from that room full of festive cheer, laughter and smiles was suddenly and almost cruelly snatched away, leaving him standing in the cool night air watching as swirls of breath escaped his chapped lips. The night was once again cold, dark and quiet…and Wyatt liked it that way. 

Well, he didn’t really like it that way. It was just better. 

Better to not find comfort and joy among people he would inevitably lose, better to not get attached, better to avoid mourning yet another person’s loss, better to not care at all than to care too damn much.

He had suffered so much loss and as a result he believed that it was just his lot in life. He didn’t particularly believe in fate, but his life had been nothing but sadness and loss and he had very little reason to believe that it would or could change anytime soon. First, it had been his mother. She had died when he was just beginning school. His earliest memories of her dimmed by the passage of time, replaced by the much darker ones that followed her death; His father’s alcoholism, the almost daily beatings, the years of unhappiness and poverty. 

Then his Grandpa Sherwin died not long after he had been selected for Delta Force. Grandpa Sherwin had been the shining example that Wyatt had chosen to follow, finding no redeemable qualities in his own father to emulate. Grandpa Sherwin had been a war hero, part of the 101stin World War II, taught him the importance of hard work, duty and responsibility…so when Wyatt had finally turned 18 and was able to get the hell away from his sonofabitch father, he decided to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps and enlisted in the Army. Wyatt had worked hard, focused on nothing but making that man proud…so when he was selected for Delta Force, Grandpa Sherwin was the first person Wyatt had told. He had been proud…but he was very ill and before Wyatt even went on his first mission as a Delta Force operative, Grandpa Sherwin was gone. The loss had been incredibly hard, but he had managed through it. The missions required his focus and attention and so he gave them his all, to make his grandfather proud…to be the man his grandpa hoped he would become. When he did break down in tears over the loss of his hero, Jessica was there to offer a shoulder to cry on. 

Each death stung in its own bitter way, each one leaving its mark on his already battered soul. Christmas had never really been a joyful time for him…what with his abusive father and all. When his mother died, Christmas became just another day until he ran away from home and Grandpa Sherwin took him under his wing. At least there, with his Grandpa Sherwin he had known what a family dinner looked and felt like…it wasn’t a Norman Rockwell painting, but at least it was more than watching his dad sleep off his latest bender over a crude meal of whatever the hell he could find in the pantry. 

When he married Jessica, however, Christmas became an event…something she obsessed over. The shopping, the decorations, the music…Wyatt didn’t understand, but he didn’t begrudge her her fun. Jessica loved the whole season and Wyatt, for a few years came to appreciate the warmth of a friendly touch, the embrace of a familiar greeting, and the joy of being among those he loved during this time of year.

But then Jessica died too. 

Her loss had been the hardest to bear….mostly because it was his fault. They had had a fight and she demanded to be let out of the car. He shouldn’t have done it, he should have made her come home, but she was furious…and so was he. Twenty minutes later, after he had cooled down, he had driven back to find her only to not….and the dread and panic that stole over him was something he hoped never to experience again. Hours he searched, he begged the police to help him….and finally days later, they found her…strangled, dead…not far from where he had left her on the side of that damn road. 

Roaring fires, roasting chestnuts, singing carols….that’s what you do with friends and loved ones…but he couldn’t love. Not anymore. Not that Jessica was gone. It was his fault she had died and so as punishment he reminded himself of that fact on every Christmas, every birthday, every anniversary. If Jessica couldn’t celebrate, neither could he. Not that he wanted to, anyway. Staying emotionally isolated, unattached, would keep him from adding more to his already over large portion of guilt and regret.

Jingling his keys, he turned back to face his Jeep, walking ever more resolutely towards his means of escape. He could not allow himself a free pass no matter how many times Rufus bugged the hell out of him. He could not spend his Christmas Eve enjoying a nice cup of most likely spiked punch, chatting up a grinning Lucy. Why the hell they insisted on treating him like a friend was beyond him; A brilliant engineer and time machine pilot with his equally intelligent girlfriend and Lucy…a kind, thoughtful and world class historian, professor and author. 

Who would have thought a scrappy kid from a poor West Texas town would ever be among the likes of these people?

Certainly not him. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate their kindness. He did. But given the risk involved with these missions and the fact that once it was all over he would be shipped back to Pendleton and separated from them forever…well, there was nothing to do but to avoid the pain that would surely come when it was time to move on.

So what if Rufus was mad that he hadn’t folded under the pressure and come to the party? It didn’t matter. Rufus had Jiya and they would be enjoying the party together and most likely spending Christmas day together as well, surrounded by either her family or his…possibly both. Lucy…well, she had a fiancé…and yeah, maybe he wasn’t at the party, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t spend Christmas day with her. He sure hoped someone would…Lucy had lost her sister and this time of year was probably really hard for her. 

Just like it was hard for him… 

Turning the key in the ignition and hearing the roar of his engine, snapped Wyatt out of his thoughtful musings and focused his determination to get the hell out of there as soon as possible. He had already ventured too far in the direction of regret and there was no way in hell he was going to be guilted by Rufus into celebrating something he had successfully avoided for the past five years. Lucy would be fine. She had her mother…and her fake fiancé…no sister…but that wasn’t Wyatt’s problem. He had enough of his own, without being concerned about Lucy’s. 

The drive home had been depressing, at best. Christmas lights twinkled from just about every window, carolers thronged the streets, church bells rang in the distance and everywhere he looked there seemed to be nothing but a sea of smiling faces. With a disgruntled huff, he pulled into a corner liquor store, convinced that his nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniels at home wouldn’t be enough to drown out the holiday spirit…particularly not when, after throwing his money down on the counter, the equally morose looking clerk wished him a “Merry Christmas.”

With a roll of his eyes, he pushed his way out of the liquor store, not realizing the force of his action until he saw with horror, that he had knocked a woman down to the pavement with the door he had so powerfully shoved through. Switching his brown paper bag to his left hand, Wyatt crouched down and offered the woman a hand up, only to recoil with horror when she looked up at him in exasperation. 

“Jess?” he breathed out in shock.

He’d know her anywhere. The blonde, shoulder length hair that she always lamented was too flat, the sharp, dark eyes that seemed to pierce his very soul, the pout of her lips…hell, even the smell of her perfume…she was here, staring up at him outside of a damn liquor store on Christmas Eve. 

“Watch where you’re going, will ya?”

Wyatt blinked at the sound of the unfamiliar voice and in that moment, Jess was gone, replaced by a woman who, though blonde, looked absolutely nothing like his late wife. “Oh…I’m I’m so sorry.” he muttered in embarrassment as he helped the woman up. 

She brushed off her jacket in frustration and eyeballed Wyatt as he quickly retreated to his Jeep, absolutely shaken by hallucination he had just had. It was Jessica…he had been so damn sure…but it couldn’t have been….and it wasn’t. Clearly, the woman now making her way into the store in no way resembled Jessica. So why had that happened? 

It had just been a long day…that was all this was. 

That bottle of Jack Daniels was definitely necessary now.

Wyatt entered his dark and empty apartment with little fanfare; just a slight toss of his keys into an awaiting dish and a heavy sigh as he shuffled off his coat and hung it on a hook by his door. Flipping on a light switch, he looked around his stark and impersonal apartment. Bare walls , no mementos…just practicality. He supposed he could have at least added a plant or two, to make it seem homier, but what really, would be the point? This wasn’t his home. It was a temporary living arrangement made when it was discovered that this time travel mission was far more complicated and complex than just taking out Garcia Flynn. There was now this shadowy organization, Rittenhouse, that they were supposedly contending with, though Wyatt wasn’t sure what to believe. 

With a marked determination, he marched into his kitchen and pulled out a tumbler, filling it with a rapidity that could hardly be surprising given the shock he had just suffered. Taking a quick drink, he shook his head to chase away the nerves that were pummeling his system. Jessica was dead and buried, had been for five years, why his brain chose to conjure up her image onto that poor, unsuspecting woman, Wyatt would never know, but he was sure of one thing; he needed a distraction. 

Flipping on his television, he sighed in frustration as he flipped through channel after channel of Christmas programming. He was in no mood to hear, _God bless us, everyone, Merry Christmas Bedford Falls,_ or even _You’ll shoot your eye out._ In defeated resignation, he settled on the one movie that still fell into the Christmas category but had very little to do with the actual holiday. John McClane slinking through air conditioning vents in Nakatomi Tower? Why the hell not? 

“I thought you hated this movie?”

“Nah, you’re thinking of the second one…that one was stupid.” Wyatt muttered as he kicked his foot onto the coffee table, raising his tumbler to his lips only to jump about a foot sideways on his couch at the sight of Jessica sitting there next to him. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, looking completely at ease. 

“Wha…you…you’re dead.” Wyatt stammered out

Jessica pursed her lips and nodded, “Merry Christmas to you, too. I can see why you didn’t go to your holiday party now…no offense, but you kinda suck at the whole meet and greet thing.

He stared back her, open mouthed, before suddenly getting to his feet and racing back into the kitchen to pour himself some more whiskey. With shaking hands, Wyatt sloshed Jack Daniels all over his counter before finally filling his tumbler enough to enjoy a decent sized swig. Clenching his eyes shut, he counted to 10 and opened them only to curse and hold his head in his hands at the sight of Jessica, now sitting at his kitchen bar, smiling at him in amusement.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice full of mirth.

Wyatt chuckled darkly, “My dead wife is asking me if I’m okay…I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to answer that.”

“Yes or no, Wyatt….it’s really pretty simple.” Jessica answered in exasperation.

Wyatt slowly lowered his hands to see her quirking her eyebrow at him in expectation. He cleared his throat, “Okay…no…I’m not okay.”

Jessica smiled broadly, “Good job. The first road to recovery is admitting you have a problem. And Wyatt, you have a problem.”

He stared back at her dumbfounded, “Well that’s the understatement of the year.”

“Isn’t it?” she sassed back as she jumped down off the bar stool and crossed into the kitchen, essentially cornering him. “Seriously, Wyatt…what the hell are you doing?”

He swallowed hard, trying to avoid her penetrating stare, feeling even more convinced that he was completely losing it, “Jess, what are you talking about? I was just watching a movie when you...” he swallowed hard, “just popped in here.” He shook his head as he rubbed his temples, “I’m going crazy, aren’t I?”

“No.” Jessica said simply, “But you _are_ wasting your life…and I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Wyatt laughed at her, “Well, that settles it. I am going crazy.”

“Laugh all you want.” Jessica said nonchalantly, “but I’m telling you right now, you’re in for a rude awakening.”

Wyatt downed another swig of whiskey as he studied her. This was Jessica, standing in his living room, arguing with him…just like she used to when she was alive. He swallowed hard and with a shaking hand, he reached out and touched hers, gasping as he felt her warm, solid, flesh under the tips of his calloused fingers. Tears sprang to his eyes as he tightened his grip on her hand, “You’re actually here?”

“Yes.” Jessica said with a sad smile. 

“How is this possible?” he asked with a quavering voice. 

Jessica smirked and clasped his hand in both of hers, “It’s Christmas…these kinds of things happen all the time.”

Wyatt scoffed, “Not to me. I haven’t done anything to deserve…” He swallowed hard as he touched her face with his free hand, “Jess…I’m so sorry.”

Jessica shook her head at him, “I’m not here for apologies, Wyatt.” 

“Then why are you here?” he asked as he blinked away tears. 

Jessica let out a short laugh, “Don’t you read Dickens?”

“No.” Wyatt admitted. “But I saved his life tonight…well, Lucy saved his life, I was really just following her orders.”

Jessica nodded at him knowingly, “She’s pretty amazing, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Wyatt admitted. “I mean, she thinks she’s just a teacher, but she doesn’t even realize she’s so much more than that. She wrote a whole book on John Wilkes Booth and knows everything there is to know about every place in time we wind up, no matter how obscure the event or the people involved…she somehow just knows.” He looked wistfully at Jessica before suddenly realizing he was showering Lucy with far too much praise in front of his not-so-dead wife. He cleared his throat, “But ya know…that’s what makes her a good team mate…her knowledge is what makes her role in this mission so important.”

“Sure.” Jessica said with a frown, “And Rufus? What’s he like?”

Wyatt shrugged. “Annoying as hell. He whines and complains on just about every jump…but he also saved my ass more than once, so…”

“Wouldn’t be without him?” Jessica asked with pointed interest. 

Wyatt looked back at her with narrowed eyes, “What the hell is this about? Is this like Jimmy Stewart thing where you’re going to show me what my life would be like without Lucy and Rufus?”

“Now there’s an idea.” Jessica said with a snap of her fingers, “but no, that’s not what this is.”

“Then what is it?”

Jessica shrugged, “You’ll see. Merry Christmas, Wyatt.”

And with that, she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Wyatt awoke with a start, his head feeling oddly heavy as he lifted it off the back cushion of his couch, the pain in his neck indicating that he had been reclined in that uncomfortable position for quite some time. Grimacing, he rubbed the back of his neck, noting with a grunt that the movie he had been watching was over, replaced by an annoying infomercial. Fumbling blindly for the controller, he switched his television off, the sudden silence slightly unnerving him as memories from earlier flitted through his brain. 

No. Not memories…dreams. 

It had all been one crazy dream. Seeing Jessica at the liquor store, talking to her in the apartment? He scoffed as he reached for his tumbler on the coffee table, only to find that it wasn’t where he had believed he had left it when he started watching the movie…it was on the kitchen counter, where he had been standing when Jessica disappeared. 

No. Jessica hadn’t disappeared. She was never here. 

Or was she?

His heart pounding a little more fiercely now, Wyatt quickly scanned the room for any evidence to suggest that she _had_ actually been there…until he realized how silly that sounded and raked his hand across his face in embarrassed frustration. He needed to rationalize his thoughts. He sat with his head hanging down, slowly rubbing the knots out of the back of his neck as he thought through the events of the evening. 

  * Jessica had been dead and buried years ago. It was Christmas Eve and he always got a little more emotional at this time of year. That wasn’t unusual. Of course, he would dream about her. 



  * They had just saved Charles Dickens. Lucy had gone on and on about how important it was that he was safe, his literary genius notwithstanding, she was far more concerned that it would ruin Christmas forever for her, without her absolute favorite tale of redemption; that of Ebenezer Scrooge. 



That, coupled with Rufus’ jab at him from earlier in the evening, plus his emotional state, was definitely enough to plant the seeds of that crazy nightmare. 

Nightmare. Was it a nightmare?

Not really. Sure, having a chat with someone who was supposed to be dead wasn’t exactly something that made him feel at ease, but somehow, he felt like, in this case, it wasn’t as terrifying as it might have been. Jessica haunting him was kind of par for the course considering how she died. He really was kind of surprised he hadn’t cracked up before now, with how much guilt he carried with him in regards to her death. He didn’t really believe in ghosts but he had always imagined that if he were ever to be haunted by the restless spirit of his dead wife, she would be an angry, vengeful spirit…hell bent on making him suffer for his part in her untimely death…but she wasn’t. Instead, she was…Jessica. Ribbing him and nagging at him just as she used to…and telling him she was there to help him. 

Huh. 

Stretching and yawning, Wyatt stood up and looked out of his window to the street beyond. It was still dark, the night was quiet and Christmas lights shone brightly up and down his otherwise darkened street. He wasn’t quite sure of the time, but he was absolutely certain, given the stiffness that still lingered in his neck, that he had been asleep for several hours. 

He made his way over to his bathroom, washing his face thoroughly and brushing his teeth to remove the acrid taste of whiskey from his mouth. With his face still covered by the towel he was using to pat himself dry, Wyatt stepped back into his living room and nearly fell backwards from shock. 

He was no longer in his living room. Hell….it wasn’t even his apartment. Wyatt was currently standing in what had been his boyhood home, a run-down rancher with vinyl wall paneling and dingy carpet. If that hadn’t been enough to shake him to his core, the sight of his grandfather sitting in an armchair next to their brick fireplace had him almost reduced to tears.

Cautiously he approached the man who had been his idol, his hero, his source of strength, and his moral compass. Crouching down in front him in stunned disbelief, Wyatt gaped at his grandfather who was sitting reading his newspaper, glasses perched on the end of his nose, completely oblivious to Wyatt’s presence.

At least this Wyatt. 

No sooner had he realized that his grandpa couldn’t see him, then the front door flew open and his younger self stepped through, looking dejected and sporting one hell of a black eye. “I remember this day.” Wyatt gasped as he watched his grandfather fold the newspaper and study his teenage self severely over the top rim of his glasses. 

“I thought you would.” Jessica chimed in as she sank down on the opposite side of his younger self on the couch. 

“What the he…” Wyatt started at the sight of her. “You’re back?”

“Yeah.” She said with a shrug, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“I…I don’t know I thought …well I thought there was supposed to be like a Ghost of Christmas Past or something.”

“I thought you didn’t read Dickens?” Jessica asked with a quirked brow.

“I don’t.” Wyatt admitted, “But I have watched _Scrooged”_

Jessica nodded at him with raised eyebrows as his Grandpa Sherwin spoke the words that Wyatt had forever committed to memory. “I take it the dance didn’t go so well? Did you step on her feet?”

“No.” the younger Wyatt admitted ruefully. “Grandpa….I lied. I wasn’t at the dance.”

“You don’t say.” Grandpa Sherwin said in a voice of mock surprise. “And why weren’t you?”

Wyatt bit his lip, “I was banned.” He muttered miserably, not lifting his eyes to meet the penetrating stare of his grandfather’s.

“You gonna tell me why…or am I gonna have to figure it out on my own?”

Wyatt hung his head in shame, “I was drinking on school grounds.”

“And where did you get the liquor?” Grandpa Sherwin asked casually.

Wyatt didn’t answer for a good long while shame evident all over his face as he muttered softly, “I stole it.”

Grandpa Sherwin nodded thoughtfully as he continued to study his grandson who had not lifted his eyes from the floor since he sat down. “Stealing is about as dishonest as you can get, son.”

“Yes, sir.” Wyatt muttered.

“I taught you better than that, didn’t I?” his grandfather asked softly.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then why did you do it?” Grandpa Sherwin asked, but when Wyatt didn’t answer for a long while he added, “No need to trouble yourself thinking about an answer…I already know.” 

The younger Wyatt looked up at his grandfather in surprise and alarm.

“Well go on then, where did you get that shiner?” Grandpa Sherwin asked, “Jessica’s beau give that to you?”

“Yeah.” Wyatt sniffed. 

Grandpa Sherwin leaned forward, “And I’m guessing she didn’t take too kindly to you sparring with him?”

Wyatt shook his head ruefully. 

It had been almost 20 years since this conversation took place, but as older Wyatt stood there watching the proceedings he felt the same shame that his younger self so clearly felt in having to answer to his grandfather. The passage of time had done nothing to lessen the guilt he felt at disappointing the man who had done so much for him in his youth.

Grandpa Sherwin clucked his tongue and motioned for Wyatt to come closer. “What’s on your mind, boy?”

Wyatt had begrudgingly left the safety of the couch and sat stiffly beside his grandfather on the tattered ottoman that sat at the base of his chair. Without lifting his face from the floor, Wyatt whispered, “I…I’ve let you down.”

“How?” his grandfather asked with kindness.

“Everything I did…lying, stealing, drinking…I’m no better than my dad.” Wyatt admitted painfully.

Tears sprung up in older Wyatt’s eyes as he relived one of the most important moments of his life. 

“Not so.” Grandpa Sherwin said with a shrug. “You made a mistake…could happen to anyone.”

Wyatt scoffed. “I did more than make a mistake, Grandpa. I knew what I was doing was wrong…and I did it anyway.”

Grandpa Sherwin nodded at him thoughtfully, “And you’re sorry for it?”

Wyatt nodded as tears rolled down his cheeks. “Yeah. I wish I could go back and do it all over again.”

“Well, boy…that’s the thing about life…you only get once chance at it.” Grandpa Sherwin said sagely. “So, you try to make good choices…and when you do make bad ones, “he leaned forward seriously, “and you will make more bad ones…you just got to get out there and do your damndest to make up for it in the best way you can.”

Wyatt didn’t say anything. He looked defeated and helpless. Older Wyatt remembered exactly what his thoughts had been. Every dream, every aspiration he had ever hoped for in regards to following in his grandfather’s footsteps had been dashed to pieces that night. No matter what his grandfather had just said about mistakes, all he could hear was the reprimands from the school officials who had declared themselves “not surprised” to find “Logan’s boy at the heart of all this trouble.” He had proved himself to be just like his damn father and it had absolutely gutted him. 

Grandpa Sherwin, wizened old man that he was, seemed to know Wyatt’s thoughts. Ever mindful of his grandson’s propensity to self-reproach, he cleared his throat and patted his grandson on the head lovingly, “Did I ever tell you about my good friend, Mitchell?” Wyatt shook his head, “We were buddies is school together, signed up for the war together, even got assigned to the same regiment.” Grandpa Sherwin shook his head ruefully, “One night we were patrolling out in the Ardennes…I got distracted…I couldn’t even tell you what drew my attention away from the perimeter…I just know in those few moments that I had lost my focus, we were ambushed…Mitchell was killed straight away.” 

“But Grandpa…that was war. This…”

“…Isn’t any different.” Grandpa Sherwin said firmly. “You made a mistake, son. You can’t stop living because you made a mistake. If I had done that, you wouldn’t be here.”

“That’s very good advice” Jessica piped up. She was standing next to Wyatt’s shoulder as he remained crouched on the floor next to his beloved grandfather. He hadn’t even seen her move, so focused was he on the scene unfolding before him. 

He turned to look at her, “But Jessica…” 

He wanted to argue that he hadn’t stopped living – that the missions he had done for Delta Force and even now for Homeland Security were evidence of that, but he knew before he even began forming the argument that it was futile. That wasn’t what his grandfather had meant…it wasn’t even what Jessica was implying. Volunteering for dangerous missions because you stopped caring about life was hardly living.

Wyatt turned sullenly to look back at his grandfather but noticed with horror that the scene was melting away. Wyatt desperately sought out his grandfather’s face as it dissolved in a sea of white light, the brightness of which caused him to wince and clench his eyes shut until the steady sound of a heart monitor made him pry his eyes open to view the scene now before him. 

He was now in a stark white hospital room, his grandfather lay dying in the bed, looking up at his younger self in full dress uniform, with a smile on his face. 

Grandpa Sherwin shook his head with a chuckle, “You’ve made a fine man of yourself, Wyatt. You’ve worked hard.”

Even now, years later, Wyatt felt a surge of pride and joy at his grandfather’s words. Never in his life had he hoped for anyone’s approval more than his grandfather…and yet as he thought that, he remembered thinking back to the horrifying moment not terribly long ago when Flynn had taunted him with Lucy’s words in that damn journal and he realized for maybe the first time, that her approval and opinion seemed to matter a hell of a lot. 

Unnerved by that revelation, he turned quickly to Jess who was studying him with a frown on her face, she however, directed his attention back to his younger self.

“Thank you, sir.” Wyatt breathed out as he swallowed down a myriad of emotions that were battling their way to the surface. 

His grandfather nodded at him, “You’ve done a lot that you should be proud of…I hope you realize that.”

Older Wyatt frowned as tears began to pool in his eyes. When he had joined the military, he was looking for an escape from his father, first and foremost. That world class son of a bitch had beaten the shit out of him for the last time and as soon as he turned 18 his papers were in. The second reason he chose the Army was sitting right in front of him…his Grandpa Sherwin had fought in the 101stduring World War II and had regaled him with stories of bravery, loyalty and trust since as long as he could remember. He never imagined he would get selected for Delta Force, never imagined that he would rise through the ranks with such a rapidity, never thought he would for one second doubt his abilities or his accomplishments, but as his Grandpa asked his younger self that question, he found that his older self would not be able to answer it truthfully. 

He had been responsible for Jessica’s death and hadn’t felt proud of himself for five damn years. Getting selected for Homeland Security’s Top Secret Time Travel Initiative hadn’t even been enough to pull himself out of the sea of self-reproach and self-hate he had sent himself adrift in since Jessica’s murder. There was nothing that he was exceptionally proud of…not anymore…and he truly believed that his grandfather, if he had known about how he had treated Jessica that night, would agree with him. 

“I hope you know, sir…I did all of this to make you proud.” His younger self admitted with a quavering voice.

His grandfather tutted, “I am proud of you, son…but I always was. You never had to prove anything to me.” His grandfather coughed weakly as he motioned to the younger version of Jessica who was now standing next to Wyatt holding his hand, “You find yourself a nice girl and settle down and you’ll never want for anything else.”

Tears spilled out of Wyatt’s eyes as the last conversation he had with his grandfather seemed to hang in the air around him. He had worked hard to not be a disappointment, to be the man his grandfather raised him to be…but now, as he stood like a phantom watching this memory play out in front of him like an old movie, he knew that he had been a failure.

Jessica rubbed his arm as she nodded sadly, “C’mon…let’s go home.”

Taking one last look at his grandfather Wyatt followed Jessica out of the door of his grandfather’s hospital room and found himself standing in the living room of the tiny house they shared together. Jessica was buzzing around the room, decorating for Christmas, the aroma of a home-cooked meal wafting from the galley kitchen down the hall. 

Still holding his Jessica’s hand, Wyatt watched her younger counterpart meticulously setting the table and putting the finishing touches on the Christmas tree. He looked around their small, but well situated home. “Feels like it’s been ages since I lived in this place.”

Jessica scoffed, “You didn’t live here, Wyatt. I did.”

Narrowing his eyes at her in confusion, Wyatt watched as the minutes ticked by. Jessica had gotten restless and moved from the dining room table to the couch. She paced the floor a few times, before finally sighing and flipping on the television. Finally, after what was undoubtedly hours, his younger self appeared through the front door, laden with gifts. “Sorry, Jess the briefing wasn’t so brief.”

Wyatt shrugged, “It wasn’t...death by Power Point on Christmas Eve…that was hell.” He joked but Jessica wasn’t smiling. 

“You know, I think this was the one Christmas you were actually home for? You were either always off on a mission, or training…or injured…remember that Christmas we spent in the hospital because you cracked your ribs?”

Wyatt rubbed a hand across his face, “I’m…I’m sorry, Jess….I guess, I just never realized how much I was gone.”

She shrugged, “It’s not like we didn’t celebrate…there was always the next week or the week before when we’d know you wouldn’t be around…but Wyatt, dammit…it would have been nice to spend the actual holidays with you.”

Wyatt swallowed hard as he watched the Jessica from that Christmas past microwaving the home cooked meal that she had so meticulously laid out for him. “Were you always this unhappy?” he asked nervously.

“No.” Jessica answered truthfully, “I understood…for the most part…but Wyatt, _we_ weren’t happy.”

He scoffed as if to argue, but as he did so the scene changed before him to what would have been their last Christmas together. Jessica was once again decorating the tree this time with a fixed frown on her face as she looked at the clock. The front door opened behind her and without looking she barked out, “You’re late.”

“Traffic.” Wyatt muttered as he threw down his bag, “Are we going to be doing this again?”

“Doing what again? Dinner with our friends?” Jessica snapped back, “Because I really don’t know what you mean by again, we’ve had to cancel the last three times, Wyatt.”

“What do you want me to do, Jess?” Wyatt argued, “Quit? Give up everything I worked my ass off for?”

She rolled her eyes, “Maybe you need to just get your priorities straight. Quit thinking of just your career and making your dead grandpa proud…start thinking about working your ass off for our marriage.”

“Ooooo sorry, that one was below the belt.” Jessica muttered out of the side of her mouth as Wyatt stared at the scene with tears in his eyes. 

Wyatt looked back at his younger self who was, by now, seething with anger…but his older self couldn’t be mad. What had she said that hadn’t been true? He hadn’t been there for her, he had missed holidays, birthdays and dinners. He had focused so much on being the man his grandfather was, he lost sight of the fact that his grandfather was also a family man who, above all else, believed that family was the most important and rewarding thing in his life. 

How could have screwed up so much?

“I don’t want to see this.” Wyatt gritted out through his tears. 

“Why not, Wyatt?” Jessica asked mechanically.

He glared at her, but just as he did so, he heard his younger self say the words that still haunted him to this day, “Go to hell, Jessica.”

The reaction that statement elicited was as horrible as Wyatt had remembered. Jessica had left him standing in the middle of the living room as she roughly shoved her arms in her jacket, walked out of the house and slammed the door behind her. 

Wyatt turned in anger towards Jessica, “Dammit, why are you doing this to me? I’ve mourned you for five damn years. I want to kick my ass every day for what happened to you…to us…what do you want from me?”

Jessica shook her head at him sadly, “I just want you to be happy, Wyatt.”


	3. Chapter 3

Wyatt sat on his couch, head in his hands hating himself more than he ever had done. His marriage, the one he had idealized for so long, had been a complete fabrication. How could he have been so damn blind not see how unhappy Jessica was? How could he not see the trouble brewing before it boiled over and resulted in her untimely death? Now he was even more convinced that he was just as guilty as the bastard who ended her life. He had neglected her… _them_ …for years…and for what? To make his grandfather proud? The man who told him on his deathbed that he didn’t have to prove anything to him? Then why the hell hadn’t he listened? Why the hell did he throw away the best thing that had happened to him?

Tears spilled their way onto his stubbled cheek, but he didn’t bother to wipe them away. Now more than ever, he was happy he hadn’t stayed at that damn Christmas party. He wasn’t deserving of any kind of merriment. He had spent so much time trying to live up to an expectation that was never placed upon him by a man who would have been just as proud of Wyatt had he been a mechanic or a burger flipper…as long as he had been an honest man, trying to do the right thing. But no, Wyatt wanted to be just like his hero and as a result, he had drifted further away from what his hero had envisioned for him…to settle down, have a family…enjoy a life filled with happiness and love…something that he hadn’t really experienced in his youth. 

He would have spent the rest of the night, musing over what a fool and failure he had been, but the buzzing of his phone pulled him away from his dark thoughts. As he looked at his screen, he shook his head ruefully, _Lucy and Rufus are gonna be pissed_. Flynn had jumped again, apparently and so Wyatt rubbed a rough hand across his face and called a cab to Mason, thankful that at least with a mission, the partyers would be forced to disperse and he would once again have something to keep his mind off the fact that it was another Christmas without Jessica.

Well, alive anyway. 

When he entered the warehouse, however, he was shocked to find himself at the Christmas party, still in full swing. Searching the room for the only person he cared to see at the moment, he found her standing by the punch bowl next to Jiya sipping from a plastic cup. He walked directly towards the refreshment table, not pausing once to smile or greet anyone who crossed his path, his eyes never straying from his friend and team mate until he was right by her side, “Lucy, what the hell is going on?” Wyatt asked with a huff, “Did Flynn jump?”

Lucy, however, didn’t look up. She didn’t even answer him. She and Jiya had been laughing before he approached but now she was frowning slightly and checking her watch. He was about to ask her again when Rufus approached shaking his head. 

“So, are you going to be spiking the punch bowl tonight or will that be Wyatt?” Lucy asked with a quirked brow. 

“I tried, Lucy.” Rufus breathed out in apologetic defeat, “I really thought that he would change his mind after spending all day here consolidating of those damn mission reports for Agent Christopher…I mean, at least to blow off some steam.”

The smile on Lucy’s face faded into a frown of sorrowful disappointment…something that immediately struck an unexpected blow to Wyatt’s heart. Seeing Lucy so saddened by his absence…he had never thought that she would miss him. 

Jiya let out a laugh, “Like he needed to do those…she has people at Homeland who could do that.”

“Yeah…he’s a regular Scrooge…working on Christmas Eve.” Rufus muttered in agreement as he shook his head in exasperation.

“Thanks a lot, Rufus” Wyatt gritted out under his breath. 

Lucy sighed heavily, “Leave him alone, Rufus. This time of year is probably hardest for him.” 

Wyatt felt a rush of gratitude towards Lucy as he stood there, unseen, unheard watching her come to his defense…understanding him in a way that amazed and surprised him. She set down her punch cup, “Where is he? I’ll go talk to him.”

“Last I saw, he was headed to his Jeep. Maybe you can still catch him.” Rufus offered, “But don’t get your hopes up, he was pretty dead set on being miserable all by his lonesome…if you ask me that dude needs a healthy dose of Christmas spirit.”

Lucy rolled her eyes as she laid into Rufus, “Have you ever lost someone…someone you weren’t expecting to lose?”

Rufus nodded apologetically, “Like you lost Amy?”

“And like Wyatt lost Jessica.” She bit back her own tears as she explained, “We all deal with our losses in different ways, Rufus.” She sighed heavily, “I choose to be here, because I can’t stand to be home with all of those memories that only I remember.” She sobbed, “Every room, every decoration reminds me of her and how holidays used to be….and the worst part? My mother doesn’t even know. Do you have any idea what that’s like? To be the only person in the world to remember someone you loved?” Lucy shook her head as she swallowed back her tears, “Wyatt isn’t one to surround himself with people when he’s feeling down…he’d much rather…”

“Brood.” Jessica and Jiya said at the same time.

Wyatt turned in shock to see Jessica smiling at him. “That Lucy…she sure has you pegged.” She said with a meaningful nod.

“Um…yeah.” Wyatt breathed out in stunned surprise, unsure of what amazed him more – how much Lucy knew him or the fact that Jess, his dead wife, was commenting about it. Guilt surged through him as he suddenly remembered his last conversation with her, “Um…Jess, I’m…I’m sorry about earlier…”

She waved him off, “It’s okay, Wyatt…I understand.” She smirked, “But I did warn you that you’d be in for a rude awakening.” 

Rude awakening was right. 

He had started this evening feeling as he always did this time of year…filled with regret, longing and loss. His self-reproach had kept him from allowing himself to enjoy the company of the two people who had come to mean more to him than he care to admit and now as he stood here witnessing this unnerving conversation that he should have been ignorant of, he was beginning to realize that he had been so busy wallowing in self-pity that he didn’t notice how much he meant to them too. 

How much he meant to Lucy. 

He was struck with an overwhelming sense of gratitude for how she defended him to Rufus…and yet he felt so undeserving of it…of her. Almost as soon as they met, he had been impressed by her resilience under pressure, her ability to think quickly on her feet, her knowledge and expertise, and her courage. She had willingly gone under cover in a room full of Nazis, confronted Garcia Flynn, and raced out to save him during the Battle of the Alamo. He never quite thanked her for that…and now here she was, once more, coming to his defense, his rescue, albeit in a different sense of the word and he had done nothing to warrant such a passionate vindication of his inattention. At best, he was a selfish asshole who was far too interested in wallowing in his own guilt and self-loathing than to stop in for a few minutes to wish his teammates…his friends…a Merry Christmas. 

Rufus was right…he was a Scrooge. 

He raked a rough hand down his face as he watched Lucy march resolutely past a smirking Rufus and make her way out into the parking lot. His heart sank as he watched her go, knowing that she wouldn’t find him there, knowing that her hope was fruitless. Hanging his head in shame he walked towards the exit after her, regretting almost immediately that he did so when he saw the tears spring to Lucy’s eyes at the confirmation that he was indeed, gone.

“She cares a lot about you, you know?” Jessica called out from the shadowy alcove she was standing in by entrance. 

Wyatt turned to face her with a grimace his guilt suddenly masking his upset at hurting Lucy, “Why? I haven’t done anything…Jess, I swear…”

Jessica laughed, “Wyatt…it’s okay. I’m not here to make you feel bad.” He gaped at her not quite believing what he was hearing. Jessica pointed to Lucy, “Why wouldn’t she care about you? You protect her, you came to her defense when she lost her sister, you were ready to lay down your life to see that she and Rufus got out safely at the Alamo…”

Wyatt shook his head dejectedly, “No…don’t…don’t….that wasn’t….Lucy saved _me_ that day. More than once.” He scoffed, “I should have been fired.”

“And what good would that have done?” Jessica asked with a frown. “She trusts you, she needs you…”

“She doesn’t need me.” Wyatt spat out in frustration. “She could have anybody…she has a fiancé…she…we’re just friends…that’s all.”

“Don’t be so sure.” Jessica said matter of factly. 

“I am sure, Jess.” Wyatt spat out angrily. “It’s you and me…you are my wife….I can’t…I don’t…” he looked at her in desperation, “we were…supposed to be meant to be…weren’t we?”

Jessica looked at him sadly, “I thought you didn’t believe in meant to be’s?”

“I don’t…but Jess….what you and I had…it was…it was…”

“Not as special as you think it was.” Jessica said firmly. 

Wyatt looked back at her like she had slapped him. He scoffed as he shook his head and stormed away as Jessica followed after him, “I get it, Wyatt. You’ve built this image of what we were…what we had…in your mind…and being faced with what actually was…it’s hard to take in.”

Wyatt turned back to face her with tears in his eyes, “I know I screwed up, Jess…but how I felt about you...”

Jessica shook her head, “I loved you too, Wyatt…but we grew apart.” Wyatt tried to argue with her, but she spoke over him determinedly, “No, Wyatt we did. You just don’t like to remember the bad times…and I get that, I do. But you need to stop blaming yourself.” His eyes darted to hers, his expression marked with pain and confusion. “Wyatt,” Jessica explained, “there were _two_ of us in that marriage.”

He nodded at her slowly in understanding, biting back the tears that had formed in his eyes as he looked at the woman whom he had spent so much of the past five years grieving and mourning. To see her now, smiling sadly back at him, forgiving him, making him realize that what they had was far from the perfection he had imagined out of guilt made him feel…

“Stupid.” Lucy breathed out as she walked past them on her way back into the warmth of the Christmas party inside Mason Industries. She was shaking her head despondently and Wyatt was struck with the overwhelming urge to hug her…but one look at Jessica, watching him watch Lucy, caused him to fidget nervously and rub the back of his neck with a rough hand. 

“What’s the matter, Wyatt?” Jessica asked pointedly.

“No…Nothing, Jess…I just don’t want you to think that there’s” he swallowed hard, “there’s nothing between me and Lucy, okay? Like I said, we’re just friends.”

Jessica smiled at him, “Okay.” She tilted her head towards the door to Mason, “Your friend seemed like she was pretty upset, maybe we should go check it out…”

Gritting his teeth, Wyatt followed Jessica and Lucy’s lead back into the warehouse. The room was filled with twinkling lights, festive garland, and cheerful faces. Christmas music blared from speakers set in the corner of the room. Wyatt scanned the sea of hideous Christmas sweaters and Santa hats to finally spy Lucy sitting off by herself in the corner of the room, with a forced smile on her face, watching the festivities with a cup of punch held a little too tightly in her hand. He hated seeing her alone, knowing as he now did, how much she was suffering. 

As he made his way towards her, he breathed out a little sigh of relief as Rufus and Jiya directly approached Lucy, to ascertain, Wyatt was sure, of what they already knew…that Wyatt had already left Mason. They were already conversing as he approached…

“I hate to say I told you so, but he just about bit my head off when I asked him to stay.” Rufus scoffed at Lucy’s eye roll, “Defend him all you want, but after all that we have been through together, you’d think he’d at least have had the decency to say hello, kiss my ass, good-bye…something…instead of sneaking out of here like he was the damn Grinch who stole Christmas.”

Wyatt was so grateful that they couldn’t see the flush of shame that was reddening his face. He hadn’t thought of it in that way - sneaking off being perceived as ungrateful to the people he worked with…and yes, cared about, despite every effort he had made at aloofness. He hadn’t wanted to get attached. Yes, they were his team…and yes, there’s a certain amount of trust and camaraderie that comes with that…but there was a danger in it too…of feeling too much. He didn’t mean to come across as completely unfeeling, as a complete and total Scrooge; he was just so damned determined to leave as quickly as possible, so afraid that he might be tempted to stay and as he looked at Lucy, he knew it had very little to do with the party, or Christmas…and everything to do with her. 

Lucy shrugged, “I guess I was just hoping that maybe he was still out there…that maybe he was reconsidering…” her voice trailed off, as she cast her eyes down to her lap. “I know it’s stupid…I mean, we’re all friends….I just….you have Jiya…and we’re both…ya know…alo-”

“Hey now,” Rufus protested, “you are NOT alone.” He nodded at Jiya for affirmation, “Just because Jiya and I are together doesn’t mean…”

Lucy smiled at him, “I know…but that’s not what I meant.” She sighed as her voice caught in her throat, “This is my first Christmas without my sister. I’m the only one who remembers her…and I don’t know…I just felt a little better knowing that I wouldn’t be suffering through this holiday completely alone in…missing someone.” She scoffed, “It’s so stupid, I know…”

It wasn’t stupid…and Wyatt wanted nothing more than to tell her so. He remembered all too well how helpless and panic-stricken she had looked before the 1865 mission. She had left Mason from their very first trip into the past only to come home and find her entire life flipped upside down. No father, no sister…and her once terminal mother, healthy and thriving. She looked so lost and scared…and Wyatt immediately felt for her. He knew that feeling. He knew that look. He had felt and acted the same way when he had lost Jess. Holding her hand later that night as she cried in the Lifeboat over Lincoln and all the absolute crap that had happened to her since the Hindenburg, Wyatt felt like he understood her. This woman, who in any other circumstance would’ve never been on his radar or among his acquaintances, was suddenly his equal in grief and pain. They had both suffered loss, they had both felt helpless, yet determined to change things…and so yes, as much as it loathed him to admit it, he took comfort in the fact that he wasn’t so alone; that this Stanford professor who was so much more than “just a teacher” was, at the heart of it all, just like him – scared, alone, grieving…. 

“Seems like she sure could use a friend who understands what she’s going through…” Jessica muttered quietly behind him.

Wyatt jumped at the sound of her voice, he had been so focused on Lucy he had forgotten she was there. “She has a fiancé.” he said almost mechanically…though he knew as the words escaped his lips that that argument was fairly pathetic. She hardly knew the guy and when he had recently asked her whether she loved him, she had answered with a defeated, but resounding, “no.”. Besides, he wasn’t with her tonight and she wasn’t seeking him out in that parking lot…she had been looking for Wyatt. 

As if reading his thoughts, Jessica gave out a snort of laughter, “I hardly think that counts, Wyatt…so you might want to come up with another excuse for why you are trying to avoid her.”

He turned suddenly to look at Jessica, “What do you mean? We’re…we’re friends…I’m not avoiding her.”

Jessica raised her eyebrows at him, “Right. That’s why you skirted out of here as fast as your legs could carry you…because I’m pretty sure if it had been Lucy instead of Rufus who tried to get you to come to the party, you wouldn’t have been sucking down whiskey and watching _Die Hard_ tonight.” 

Affronted, Wyatt gaped at Jessica, “What are you implying, Jess? Lucy and I…we…”

“You kissed her.” Jessica said matter of factly.

Wyatt scoffed as he furrowed his brow, clearly uncomfortable with the knowledge that Jessica knew about that undercover kiss, “That…that was for a mission…there was nothing…”

Jessica shook her head at him in frustration, “Fine. Keep lying to yourself, Wyatt.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Jess?” Wyatt spat out in anger, “It wasn’t…it wasn’t real…she knows, we were just playing a role.”

“And you feel absolutely nothing for her…she’s just your co-worker, right?” Jessica asked him lazily. 

Wyatt turned his head away from Jessica in exasperation and was faced once more with the sight of Lucy, with a strained smile on her face, chatting with Rufus and Jiya, looking a particular shade of miserable. He was so angry that Jessica had brought up the Bonnie and Clyde mission. That was a low blow. He and Lucy were stuck playing the role of an engaged pair of criminal bandits…because Lucy had forgotten to leave her engagement ring behind. They needed a convincing story…and fast…so Wyatt provided one, the story of how he had proposed to Jessica. His emotions had been high and he was under the influence of that awful, cheap booze…kissing Lucy…it…it didn’t mean anything.

It couldn’t. 

“Right.” Wyatt said as he clenched his eyes shut, feeling at once the emptiness of that word. 

Jessica shrugged sadly as she sighed heavily, “I didn’t want to have to do this, Wyatt…but you’re not giving me any choice.”

He turned back to her with a questioning glance only to find himself completely alone in an empty warehouse, a wave of dread and panic washing over him with only one thought dominating his thoughts. 

_Where the hell was Lucy?_


	4. Chapter 4

Wyatt’s eyes darted around the empty and darkened warehouse. It looked nothing like the Mason Industries he knew. Instead of being filled with the latest in high tech equipment, this warehouse was a in a state of…well, neglect…as if some sort of disaster had struck and the entire building had gone up in flames. 

Scrambling over the remnants of what used to be Mason Industries, Wyatt found himself in the overgrown parking lot of his former place of employment, his mind struggling to grip onto any kind of satisfactory narrative as to what the hell had happened…but judging from the sight of things at Mason, it couldn’t have been good. He swallowed hard as he turned, his eyes adjusting to the almost pitch black of night, taking in the scene spread out dismally before him. What had been Mason was essentially gone…a broken shell of a building barely left standing in its place. 

What the hell had happened?

A hundred different scenarios swiftly flitted their way through his mind, each one doing nothing to calm the growing sense of dread that was building within him. If Mason was destroyed, what did that mean? Did the missions fail? Did Garcia Flynn get away? Did this involve Rittenhouse somehow? Where was the LifeBoat? More importantly, where the hell were Rufus and Lucy? 

“Jess,” Wyatt called out in a quavering voice, “now would be a good time to pop in here and let me know what’s going on.” He looked around, hoping for the first time since this insane evening began that she would appear and give him some kind of guidance, but all that met him was the unnerving quiet of darkness. “Jess?” Wyatt called again, a little louder this time actively searching for her among the heaped rubble of the ruined warehouse. 

Panic was threatening to overtake him as he wandered aimless and guideless through this…whatever the hell this was…a dystopian future? A nightmarish version of reality? “Jess!” he yelled out this time, not caring whether someone heard…at least then he’d have someone to talk to…someone to tell him where his team was. 

As his shout echoed through the night sky, Wyatt suddenly found himself outside of the bar the team used to frequent. No…not _used_ to…this _was_ their usual place. He shook his head to clear those dark thoughts from his mind – no way was he going to believe that they were gone. The state of Mason Industries didn’t mean a damn thing. Maybe they moved onto another location. Maybe their base of operations had been compromised. It didn’t mean anything had happened to any of them. They were fine. 

They _had_ to be. 

Confused by the sudden change in his surroundings, unsure of why he was suddenly transported here after the somber scene at Mason, Wyatt tentatively eased open the door of the bar and was greeted immediately by the sounds of music and laughter. The difference between the two scenes was jarring and it took Wyatt a few moments to realize, with the utmost relief, that Rufus and Jiya were sitting at their usual table with someone Wyatt had not recognized…not at first, anyway. As he got nearer, he let out a gasp of surprise to find his old Delta Force buddy, Dave Baumgardner…more affectionately known as Bam Bam, grinning from ear to ear and having one hell of a good time.

Why they all looked so carefree after witnessing the devastation at Mason was beyond him, but they all looked healthy and happy – that, at least was something. Wyatt noted that it didn’t seem as if a lot of time had passed. If this was indeed, some dystopian future he was witnessing, then this particular scene wasn’t too far from their present. All three of them looked the same as Wyatt knew them, though if he would have to hazard a guess, he would imagine it was no more than five years from the present time. In any case, to see his friends, together, smiling, and happy was enough to allow the tightness that had formed in his chest to loosen slightly as he took in the scene before him. Whatever had happened at Mason didn’t seem to be affecting them, on the contrary, they looked as if they were celebrating. If something truly terrible had occurred, Wyatt figured they wouldn’t be here, kicking back at the bar, looking every bit the part of a close-knit team he had secretly wished they all could be. Just looking at Bam Bam smiling happily with Rufus and Jiya was enough to make Wyatt envious that he _hadn’t_ been more open to spending time…quality time…with his team outside of the missions. 

Lucy and Rufus were his team, his family…and Wyatt knew that no matter how much he tried to stay aloof, impersonal, unattached, there was no escaping the fact that he was already in too deep with Rufus Carlin and Lucy Preston. He cared about them…and though he knew he was in danger of facing heart ache and regret when these missions were done, he was beginning to understand that he would have far more regrets if he didn’t show them just how much they mattered to him.

Lucy, in particular. 

Come to think of it…where was she? His eyes darted around the crowded bar in a desperate attempt to spy her, but she was nowhere in sight. Panic revisiting him once more, Wyatt drew nearer to the table in an attempt to overhear some snippet of their conversation in the loud and crowded bar, to discover some clue as to why Lucy wasn’t there.

As a matter of fact, where the hell was he?

And how the hell did Rufus know Bam Bam?

The answer to that question became painfully and abundantly clear as Wyatt approached and took in their harrowing conversation.

“Dude, I cannot believe you made that shot!” Rufus exclaimed happily while clinking his beer bottle against Bam Bam’s. “Here I thought we were never gonna get out of that damn bunker, but thanks to you, we never have to take cold showers again.”

“C’mon now, Rufus” Jiya quipped, “it wasn’t _that_ bad. Sharing one rusty bathroom between five adults? Trying to cook meals on that ancient stove?”

“Yeah,” Rufus scoffed, “if I never eat another bowl ramen it will be too soon.” He took a long swig of his beer, “At least we don’t have to live with Mr. “History is a Serious Business” McGee anymore.”

“We wouldn’t have had to at all if you would have just apologized, Rufus.” Jiya said with an eye roll. 

Rufus gaped at Jiya, affronted and turned to Bam Bam, “You agreed with me, didn’t you? It was her damn fault, her damn family that drove us underground.”

Bam Bam shrugged, “Yeah…but she would’ve been a hell of a lot nicer to look at in that rust bucket than that wrinkly old guy, probably would’ve smelled better in there too.”

Wyatt had no way to be sure, but he couldn’t help but think they were talking about Lucy…and it was enough to make him see red. Bam Bam’s reducing of Lucy to “something nice to look at” when she was a brilliant and valuable member of their team was making him wish he could beat the shit out of him right here and now. But that wasn’t even the worst of it. If he was understanding this conversation correctly, Rufus had driven Lucy away from the team, had blamed her…her family…for causing them to go into hiding. What the hell did that mean? Did it have something to do with Amy? Had she gotten her back and caused some sort of ripple effect? And why the hell hadn’t he, Wyatt, stopped her from leaving? 

Rufus laughed at Bam Bam’s dig and patted him on the back, “I’m gonna miss you when you head back to Pendleton. We made one hell of a team.”

“Yeah we did.” Bam Bam answered with a chuckle, “Though, I was never as good a shot as Wyatt.”

Rufus scoffed, “Don’t sell yourself short, man. Don’t get me wrong, Wyatt was a great soldier for the missions, but he was so hung up on his personal stuff…I’m just glad we got you as a replacement…we could have been landed with a real jackass.” 

“Truth.” Bam Bam said as he raised his bottle in agreement. “Don’t know how I got to be the lucky SOB to do this job, but I’m happy to do it.”

“And we’re happy to have you” Rufus winked. “Wyatt told us we’d like you more than him…well, at least on that he was right.”

The weight of those words came crashing down onto Wyatt like a fifty-ton weight. He had made that comment in jest to comfort Lucy, mostly, when he had been fired before the Alamo mission. He had no way to know for certain whether Lucy and Rufus would like Dave Baumgardner or not, he hoped they would, but he was licking his wounds. To lose another team? It stung…and Wyatt was trying to push those feelings down, regain his emotional detachment, avoid thinking about the fact that he was about to be alone once more, but Lucy had insisted on arresting him with those dark eyes, full of concern, full of disappointment…and he had to tell her something. Self-deprecation seemed the best way to communicate to her that he wasn’t worth getting upset over, that he was easily replaced, that he didn’t want her to feel that same pang of loss that he was feeling. Hell no, if she had revealed any such regret to him, it would make it that much harder to go. It was far easier to convince himself that he was an expendable member of the team, a hired gun and nothing more. 

But now as he stood here in the bar, staring through watery eyes at the small little table in front of him, he knew without a doubt that being replaced…happily replaced at that, hurt…far more than he had imagined it would…even as he had steeled himself for it during the Alamo mission. That mission was supposed to be his last…and if he was being honest with himself, that knowledge was what pushed him over the edge and caused him to be so damn reckless during the battle. He knew then, though he didn’t quite want to admit it, that this new team meant more to him than anything else in his life and losing them was not an option. 

With no family, very few friends, and the strategically surgical missions he was used to on Delta Force, it had been a long time since he had associated with civilians. This mission had thrown him into the lives of two people who made him pause and think about the why of these operations…and that was something he wasn’t trained in, something that fundamentally changed his outlook. He had been instructed to focus solely on taking out Garcia Flynn, had been told that his team members’ safety was not his concern, but as he spent time with Rufus and Lucy, saw them time and time again, risk their own lives to save his, he found that he could not treat them so objectively. Try as he might to view them as fellow soldiers who, like him, had agreed to risk their lives to preserve history, that task proved impossible as he found himself bending to their pleas to show restraint so as not to risk the lives of an old friend or an important historical figure. He too, then became far more concerned with their safety than that of taking out Garcia Flynn. 

And because of that he was fired.

To suddenly be told that he was leaving them to the mercy of someone else, someone else who may not care or trust them and their judgement as he had done, was beyond difficult. There, in the hellish confines of the Alamo, a suicide mission if there ever was one, he was haunted by memories of the last team he lost on another nearly hopeless mission. Overwhelmed with guilt, grief and a sense of failure he had almost thrown in the ultimate towel. To face the prospect of going back to the present only to be shipped off to God knows where, being removed from the only two people in the world who seemed to give a damn, even if he wasn’t quite ready to let them in…had been too much. He had failed in his mission, had ultimately failed them because he had made the mistake of getting too damn attached and was now left with the terrifying prospect of being completely alone again. He wouldn’t do it. He would die, he would buy them the time they needed to get out and Bam Bam would swoop in and pick up right where he had left off. 

But then there was Lucy. 

She had come from out of nowhere, dodging the firestorm of bullets that were raining down upon them, determined to get him back to safety. He tried to explain that it was no damn use, he had nothing left to live for…wanted to drive the point home in one last desperate attempt at detachment by telling her everyone he cared about was gone…that she and Rufus didn’t need to worry about a man who couldn’t need them…no matter how much he wanted to. 

Lucy, however, wouldn’t take no for an answer. She wouldn’t leave him. Didn’t care that he was trying to push her away… she needed him, she trusted him, she didn’t want anybody else…and for the first time in a long time he felt wanted and for more than just his military training. It didn’t matter that Bam Bam was waiting in the wings, it wasn’t the soldier, the gun that mattered to Lucy…it was him.

So, where the hell was she now? How could he, Wyatt, have let her leave after everything she had done to keep him on the team?

Panic coursed through him like a live wire, making every nerve feel like it was ready to snap. Why the hell was Mason a burned out hell hole? Why was he replaced? What had caused Lucy to leave Rufus, Jiya and Bam Bam?

As if in answer to his question, he found himself standing in the hallway of a school. He looked around himself and noted, from the age of the students and the size of the classrooms along the paneled hallway that he must be in a university. Desperately searching for the one person he knew must be acquainted with this scene, he rushed down the hall, peeking through doors, craning his neck over the crowds of people, until finally he heard her voice.

His heart beating faster as he reached the lecture hall, he found himself looking down on a much older Lucy than he knew. He couldn’t tell how many years had passed, 15…maybe 20…but he’d know her anywhere. She was finishing a lecture, most students sitting with rapt attention as she passionately discussed the waning days of the Civil War. He caught words like “Appomattox Courthouse” and “Grant and Lee” she shared some funny little anecdote about Wilmer McClean and his futile efforts to escape the war and as her students laughed, Wyatt’s heart ached with regret that he had never really appreciated how interesting her stories were. On just about every mission, he had brushed off her knowledge…wanting only the necessary details…no time to expound on the fun little facts that caused her eyes to light up in delight.

The hour up, her students began to file out of the lecture hall, leaving Lucy alone to gather her materials. Wyatt slowly made his way down the steps, but found, to his complete astonishment that he wasn’t alone…Rufus was there and coming down the other side of the lecture hall stairs. 

Not looking up, Lucy seemed to sense his presence muttering coldly as he approached, “I didn’t know you were enrolled in my class, Rufus.” She sighed heavily as she lifted her briefcase from the lectern, “Don’t tell me after all this time, I’ve got to get back in that damn machine again.”

Rufus chuckled, “Hello, Lucy. Long time, no see.” Rufus offered her a small hug which she returned stiffly. “What have you been doing with yourself?” he asked awkwardly.

Lucy answered him with a curt coldness that took Wyatt aback, “Well, you know…I just try to keep busy these days. Teaching, writing…” she turned to face Rufus more fully a stern glare fixed in her eye, “doing what I should have been doing all along.”

Rufus nodded in acknowledgment, looking every bit as admonished as she had intended, “Heard about your divorce…sorry.” he offered with a frown, “Course that was how many years ago now…”

Lucy rolled her eyes, “Don’t be. I never should have…” she trailed off her face looking far more careworn now, that Wyatt was closer. His curiosity was piqued…who had she married? Obviously, it hadn’t ended well…and Wyatt was at once strangely relieved to see from her empty left hand that she had not remarried and irritated as hell that anyone could not appreciate her enough to fill the role of husband. Lucy shook her head impatiently, “Is there something you needed?”

Rufus nodded pensively, hesitating slightly before finally withdrawing a paper from his coat pocket and handing it to her, “Just thought I’d let you know before you heard it from someone else.”

Lucy reached out and took the paper from Rufus’ hand, letting out an exasperated sigh as she did so. Her eyes darted back and forth as she read through whatever the hell it was that Rufus had brought her, her expression, stony, and not at all like the Lucy he knew. There was no emotion in her eyes, no small smile or frown that graced her lips…she looked completely indifferent to the information she was reading. Wyatt craned his neck to see what was written on the page, but before he had a chance to see it, she had folded it with a huff and set it down on her lectern, “When did you find out?”

Rufus shrugged, “Last night. I…uh…would’ve called you, but I didn’t want to upset you.”

Lucy shrugged, “Why would I be upset? I mean, my goodness…we’ve heard nothing after all these years, and there’s not exactly visiting hours wherever the hell they stuck him after he stole the LifeBoat.”

Rufus looked back at her, pain in his eyes, “That’s true…but…he was…”

“What?” Lucy asked irritably. “He left us, Rufus…almost caused you to go to prison.” She shook her head in frustration, “He told me all of this would be worth trying to get her back again…I wonder if he felt the same way, living out the rest of his life in that black site.” She shrugged, “Now he’s gone.” She adjusted the strap on her briefcase as she slung it on her shoulder, “I just hope now, wherever he is, that he’s found some peace.”

Wyatt stomach dropped as if he had missed a stair. He didn’t need to look at that paper to know who and what the hell Lucy was talking about…he wasn’t stupid…hell, everybody knows how this story goes, but that wasn’t what had upset him. Lucy’s cold indifference to the news was like an icy dagger in his heart. She didn’t care. The woman who had needed him, trusted him, brushed off the news of his death like it was a damn weather report. Could he blame her?

Had he really been that damn selfish? He left Lucy and Rufus, the mission, sacrificed his freedom and put them at risk…caused Rufus to break the law all to save Jessica? 

He thought over his desperation, his guilt, everything he had believed before literally seeing his life flash before his eyes and without having to see the confirmation of it, he knew that it was true. He had been so obsessed over Jessica’s murder, so consumed with the need to get her back, to change what had happened…and why? To alleviate his own damn guilt. From everything he had seen tonight, his marriage hadn’t been what he had imagined it was. Jessica was unhappy…he was unhappy and yes, he had made a terrible mistake, but what had Grandpa Sherwin said? _You can’t stop living because you made a mistake_. If what Lucy had said were true, then he most certainly had stopped living. He had given up his freedom, sacrificed his new-found family, almost dragged Rufus into prison with him…all to assuage his guilt. 

Now more than ever, he needed some assurance from Jessica that it wasn’t too late to change course, that he could come back to the present and fix this. 

“Jess?” Wyatt breathed out shakily, but much to his despair, no answer came. 

Lucy had resumed the gathering up of what remained of her lecture materials, sliding them into the pockets of the briefcase slung over her shoulder as Rufus began backing out of the lecture hall. “So…um…you want to get together and…I don’t know talk about the old days?” Rufus offered as he paused near the stairs and looked back at Lucy wistfully, “Have a drink…ya know, send him off right?”

Lucy sighed heavily and checked her watch, “I really can’t. I’m sorry, Rufus, but I have another lecture in thirty minutes and then I have a mountain of research papers to grade.” She gave him an indifferent shrug, “Maybe we can catch up later? Are you still with….”

“Jiya.” Rufus finished, “Yeah…we’re um…married.”

“Oh” Lucy said with surprise, “Congratulations…I guess I sort of have been out of the loop a bit.”

Rufus stood by awkwardly, “Yeah.” He turned to walk up the stairs before clenching his eyes shut and turning back to her, “Hey Lucy, listen…I’m sorry about how I acted…ya know with all that about your family and everything. After that attack….I just…I shouldn’t have blamed you.”

Lucy shook her head quickly, “I really don’t want to discuss it, Rufus…if it’s all the same to you.” He pursed his lips and hung his head in shame as she checked her watch again, “I really do need to go. Thank you, for stopping by.”

“Oh…right. Sure.” Rufus nodded with a frown, “I’m sorry to have bothered you.” He called after her. Lucy, however, didn’t respond, she marched resolutely out of the lecture hall without so much as a backwards glance at the man who had once been her team mate and friend. 

What the hell had happened?

With shaking hands, Wyatt reached out and unfolded the paper that was still laying on the lectern. It was a redacted copy of a classified file that indicated one Master Sergeant Wyatt Logan had died while serving time in an undisclosed location. Swallowing hard, Wyatt set the paper back down and watched as Rufus slowly made his way alone up the stairs. Rufus had been more affected by his death than Lucy. Lucy’s coldness and indifference to his passing was something he knew would haunt him forever. Lucy, who had always been so warm and caring, the member of their team who had always been ready with a hug, always willing to see the best in everyone, had even treated Rufus like he was the last person on Earth she had wanted to see. 

Why?

What the hell had happened to the team without him there? 

“Jess?” Wyatt called out loud again to the now empty lecture hall. He felt completely and utterly alone. He had died and no one even cared…Rufus had only come to tell Lucy because of some feeling of obligation and nostalgia. He already knew Rufus had preferred Bam Bam on the team, and why wouldn’t he? If Wyatt had almost got him thrown in prison why the hell would he be missing him when he could have a damn good team mate in Bam Bam? But Lucy? Lucy hadn’t wanted anybody else, she had told him that, begged and pleaded with him during that Alamo mission…he had even kissed her…and yet, she hadn’t even flinched at the news that he was now gone. 

Really gone. 

Unable to stand the feeling of isolation, he raced out of the door Lucy had exited…wanting to chase her down….and...and do what exactly? He had no idea. She couldn’t see him, she couldn’t hear him…he was a damn ghost and she…she was nothing like the Lucy he had known. She was callous, apathetic, aloof…the embodiment of the stereotypical librarian type he had imagined she would be when he had first met her.

But that was _not_ Lucy. 

He had no idea what had happened to her in the apparent years it had been since he knew her, but she had been changed…and not for the better. Abandoned by him, informed by the person she trusted with her life time and time again that she essentially didn’t matter…that he would rather go to prison than be her team mate? Wyatt felt sick at the thought. And then there was Rufus who had driven her away because he had blamed her for some attack? Wyatt thought on what that meant. If she hadn’t completed her mission with Mason, then had she been able to save Amy? 

Probably not. 

And if she hadn’t saved Amy, that meant she was probably still engaged to that jackass of a fiancé…Noah…somebody. Wyatt froze in the hallway as he realized that the man Lucy had married and divorced was most likely the same man she had been engaged to. Without her team supporting her, without Amy, she probably turned to the only person she had left…the fiancé she didn’t even know.

No wonder it ended badly. 

And it was all his fault. He had broken up the team through his selfishness, he had ignored Lucy’s pleas and left her with Bam Bam and Rufus…and had ultimately failed her. He knew how much she relied on him and trusted him…and he trusted her…but he had thrown her to the wolves. Whatever the hell had happened, whatever it was that Rufus blamed her for, she had obviously felt responsible enough and hurt enough to walk away from it all and give up on everything she had been fighting for. 

Desperate to see her again, Wyatt ran down the corridor searching every classroom for any sign of her. Wanting to call out, but knowing that it would be in vain, he passed door after door, until finally he spied her sitting at a desk in a small classroom arranging her notes as she prepared for her next class. He didn’t know what he was looking for…a sign that she was affected in some way by his death? A trace of the Lucy Preston he once knew? Something…anything to make him feel better about this nightmarish vision. Lucy, however, was as expressionless as she had been during her talk with Rufus and there wasn’t even a hint that she had just received news that he was sure would’ve made his Lucy break down in tears. 

Wyatt stepped forward towards her, “Lucy,” he called out loudly, “look at me.” He knew his efforts were in vain, but he couldn’t stand seeing her like this. “Lucy, dammit, look at me!” he cried out, but still she sat as stoic as ever, not even flinching as he skirted around the table and crouched down in front of her. “C’mon Lucy…please….”he begged, but still she worked on, completely oblivious to his presence. 

Panic-stricken now, Wyatt scrambled away from the desk as Lucy stood up to write on the chalkboard. He stood there and stared at her, his heart-breaking as she remained cool, calm and collected. Every unsympathetic stroke of the chalk seemed to be like a knife piercing him through the heart for how cool and collected she was…how completely uncaring and so totally unlike the Lucy Preston he knew…and it was killing him. 

“Jess!” he yelled out. “Get me the hell out of here!” He backed away from Lucy’s desk, his head pounding and as tears stung his eyes, “Dammit, Jess, where are you?” he gritted out angrily, “I’ve learned my damn lesson, okay? Just get me home.”

The room however, remained unnervingly quiet save for the sound of the scraping of chalk against the chalkboard as Lucy continued her work, seemingly unbothered by anything but preparing for her next class. The sight was enough to cause Wyatt to race out of there, unable to stand the sight of a Lucy who was so changed. Stumbling into the now crowded hallway he ran headlong into Jessica who was standing with her arms crossed, looking at him with a mixture of sympathy and amusement. “What’s wrong, Wyatt?” she asked with a quirked brow.

“What the hell are you trying to do to me?” he spat out through tears. 

“I’m trying to help you, Wyatt.” she answered as she cupped his anguished face in her hands. “I didn’t want to do this, but you know…you are so damn stubborn.”

“Just send me back, okay? Send me back and I swear, I’ll stop being a selfish jackass.”

“Well, let’s not jump into the deep end, just yet.” Jessica said with a short laugh, “Baby steps, Wyatt. How about you get through one Christmas without feeling sorry for yourself and then you can work on the other days of the year. Fair enough?”

Wyatt blinked at her, “Okay…sure…fine…whatever…just get me the hell out of here.”

“Your wish is my command.” Jessica said with a wink. 


	5. Chapter 5

Wyatt awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright on his couch, nearly knocking over his barely touched tumbler of whiskey in the process. His heart was pounding in his chest as he took a moment to gather his thoughts and get his bearings. He was home…and from the looks of everything in his apartment, including the Bruce Willis movie playing in the background, it was his own time. Not quite trusting this development, he clenched his eyes shut and shook his head as the all too real fragments of what had to have been a dream still lingered in his mind’s eye. It had all seemed so damn real…and from the panic that was still coursing through him, he was halfway to certain that it had been real. 

But that was crazy. 

Jessica was dead. There was no way in hell he had seen her, talked to her…but no matter how much he tried to convince himself of that fact, he could not get over the undeniable feeling that she had been here. Worse than that, he could not forget, could not shake the overwhelming feeling of sadness and regret that still clung to him as the phantom images of Lucy’s expressionless face flitted through his mind. 

With a sudden sense of urgency, he jumped to his feet and strode quickly to the door. It didn’t matter if what he had experienced was real or just a figment of his overworked brain, he needed to see Lucy. He would not be able to sleep with that nightmarish vision haunting him. Stuffing his arms roughly into his coat, he grabbed his keys and sprinted down the steps of his apartment before jumping into his Jeep and speeding back to Mason Industries. Checking the time on his console, he was comforted by the fact that the party was still underway…and would be for another hour or two.. 

The drive seemed never ending, his impatience to see Lucy…and Rufus causing him to curse every red light, every leisurely driver, every infuriating delay. Only about ten minutes longer than his usual drive to Mason, but much later than he had intended, he pulled into the parking lot, breathing out a sigh of relief as he noted that both Rufus and Lucy’s vehicles were still parked in their respective places. Hardly daring to waste one more second, Wyatt raced across the parking lot and wrenched open the door of the warehouse.

The sound of Christmas music resonated throughout the large room as dozens of people danced and swayed in the middle of the floor; a sea of ugly Christmas sweaters and festive hats. Wyatt desperately craned his neck in search of the only two people he gave a damn about in this whole room full of interns and lab techs, but try as he might, he could not find them. Pushing his way past revelers, some of whom were clearly enjoying the holiday spirits, Wyatt’s eyes darted back and forth, scanning the room for any sign of his friends. 

Almost afraid that he was still a ghost, that he was still living some crazy half-existence, unseen and unheard by anyone in the room, Wyatt felt the panic begin to rise in his chest again and was almost about to yell out for Jessica when suddenly, Rufus’ voice sounded behind him. “Well, I’ll be damned. Decide to come down to Whoville, after all, Mr. Grinch?” Wyatt spun around quickly to face Rufus who was nursing a plastic cup of juice and staring down Wyatt with a look of smug satisfaction, “Don’t tell me, you have more reports to file?”

A couple of hours ago, Wyatt would’ve been ready to kick Rufus’ ass over that greeting, but now, he was so damned relieved he gripped Rufus by the arms and asked in a voice shaking with emotion, “You can see me?”

Obviously confused by Wyatt’s nonsensical question, Rufus’ mouth dropped open in shock, “Yeah, Wyatt…I can see you.” He raised his eyebrows as he leaned forward and asked in a hushed voice, “The question is how many of me are you seeing right now?”

Wyatt breathed out a sigh of relief, “I’m not drunk.” he muttered as he turned around again to scan the warehouse, “Where’s Lucy?”

“She’s around here somewhere.” Rufus shrugged, “I don’t know I was just kicking ass in a game of Christmas movie trivia.” He lifted an envelope, “Just won myself a gift card to Best Buy.”

“Congratulations.” Wyatt muttered, “Look, Rufus…I’m not trying to be rude, but…I just need to see Lucy. It’s important. Can you tell me where you saw her last?”

Rufus studied Wyatt for a while, the smile on his face fading into a concerned frown, “Sure…okay.” He gestured to the far wall, “She was over there a few minutes ago. Is everything okay, man?”

Wyatt turned once more to face his friend and team mate, a look of sadness in his eye, “Yeah…I just...Merry Christmas, Rufus.”

Surprised, yet obviously touched by Wyatt’s change of heart, Rufus grasped Wyatt’s hand in both of his, “Merry Christmas, man. I’m glad you’re here.”

Wyatt nodded and turned his attention to the far side of the room in search of Lucy. As that was the general vicinity of the holiday spirits and the catered platters, the crowd in that corner of the warehouse was thick. Wyatt slowly eased his way through the throng of people, careful not to nudge anyone too roughly causing them to spill the contents of whatever they had piled on their tiny plates, his eyes never ceasing to look for the one person in the room he cared most to see. 

A change in the music, brought a more somber atmosphere to the party as _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas_ filled the now subdued room. Couples slowly swayed together on the makeshift dance floor, and party goers who had been laughing raucously were now quietly reminiscing amongst themselves, breaking off into smaller groups, allowing Wyatt to view as they did so, the area beyond the tables exhibiting the holiday spread. 

Grateful for the literal parting of the red sea of Christmas sweaters, Wyatt made his way, unobstructed, to the other side of the table where he saw much to his delight and relief, Lucy slipping out through a side door into the main offices of Mason. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Wyatt charged after her determinedly, unsure of what he might say or do, only knowing that he needed to be near her. 

As he made his way through the door she had just escaped through, he found himself in a semi-darkened hallway – the soft glow of the exit sign and the light filtering from an empty conference room the only illumination offered him in his quest to find her. It didn’t take long, however…in fact, if he hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going he would’ve tripped over her outstretched legs. She was sitting not far from the door, her back against the wall, her legs stretched out in front of her, clasping her locket in her fingers and looking up at Wyatt in a state of complete shock. “Wh…What are you doing here?”

Wyatt shrugged as he smirked down at her, “I heard there was a Christmas party going on. What are _you_ doing here?”

Lucy dropped her gaze, embarrassed, “I…um…just needed some air.”

Wyatt looked at her doubtfully, “In the hallway?” He pointed to the space beside her, “Is that seat taken?”

Lucy shook her head slightly, still casting him a questioning glance as he eased himself down next to her on the floor. “I thought you left?” Lucy asked still slightly gaping at him. 

“I did.” Wyatt admitted. Silence seemed to permeate every nook and cranny of that corridor, drowning out even the muffled sounds of laughter and music filtering through the cracks of the door to the warehouse beyond. It was tense and awkward, but Wyatt sighed heavily as he admitted with difficulty, “This time of year…it’s not my favorite.”

Lucy looked at him with sympathy as she twisted her locket in her fingers, “Yeah…I understand.” She sighed heavily, “Christmas used to be my favorite time of year, but without Amy…”

Wyatt nodded in understanding, unsure of what to say to make things better. He knew he hated it when people pried into his feelings, but he had promised Jessica…well, he thought he did - that he was going to be better than he had been, so he cleared his throat and observed, “You handled it better than I have for the past five years.” He frowned, “You actually stayed for the Christmas party.”

Lucy chuckled dryly, “Well, it was this or go home and be reminded that Amy wasn’t here…I thought being surrounded by other people…people I didn’t know before she…” Lucy frowned, “I just needed a distraction tonight.”

Wyatt took in their lonesome surroundings, “I don’t mean to state the obvious, Lucy…but this hall isn’t very distracting.”

Lucy smiled, “No…it’s not. I just didn’t want to hear that song.” She gestured to the door where the melodic tune of _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas_ could still be heard, albeit much more softly, through the closed door. She wiped away a stray tear as she admitted ruefully, “It’s one of the saddest Christmas songs ever written.”

Wyatt shrugged, “Let your hearts be light? What’s so sad about that?”

Lucy chuckled again, “It was originally written for the movie, _Meet Me in St. Louis, Louis_.” Lucy explained, “Judy Garland’s character is sad because they’re about to move from their family home and she doesn’t want to go. She fell in love with the boy next door and has so many friends…” Lucy frowned sheepishly, grateful for the low light that his the blush she could feel creeping onto her cheeks, “but she’s not singing it for herself.”

“No?” Wyatt muttered beside her. 

“No…she’s singing it for her little sister.” Lucy wiped away another tear, “Her sister had her heart set on seeing the World’s Fair in St. Louis that next year, and she’s devastated…so she sings that song…”

“To try to cheer her up.” Wyatt finished. 

“Yeah.” Lucy breathed out, a small, wistful smile gracing her lips. “It’s just full of sadness and regret and the hope that next Christmas will be better…but until then...” she pointed towards the door as the last refrain of the song sounded…

_so have yourself a Merry little Christmas now._

“I guess I just didn’t feel like having a Merry little Christmas right at that moment.” Lucy said with a shrug. “So I hid out in here.” Slightly embarrassed by her emotional response to a Christmas carol, Lucy shook her head with a chuckle, “It’s stupid, I know.”

Wyatt frowned as he nodded in understanding. He knew too well what that feeling was like; to feel like you were under some sort of obligation to be “merry” when instead, you were feeling the loss of the people closest to you more than any other time of the year. He sighed heavily as he reached down and with only a bit of hesitation, took Lucy’s hand in his. “No, Lucy…it’s not stupid at all. You actually came to the party. You know what I did?” Lucy shook her head at him, “I went to the liquor store and then I went home…and had one hell of a nightmare.”

“Nightmare?” Lucy quipped, “I didn’t think Delta Force got nightmares.” She smiled but at Wyatt’s serious expression, she cleared her throat and muttered, “Sorry.” Biting her lip, inwardly berating herself for teasing Wyatt about his emotional baggage at Christmas, Lucy tried again, though the quaver in her voice gave away the fact that she was nervous about her question, “Was it about Jessica?”

Wyatt scoffed, “Yeah…and you…and Rufus.” He cast his eyes downward, “I’m sorry I ran off earlier.” he whispered, “I’m so used to being alone on the holidays, I didn’t think…” he paused as he tried to piece together what he wanted to say, “I should have been here with you.”

Lucy gaped at him slightly before stammering, “Wh…you don’t…why?”

Wyatt rubbed his thumb along the back of Lucy’s hand, contemplating his answer, “Because I know more than anyone what it’s like to have someone ripped away from you suddenly…and what that feels like when Christmas rolls around.” 

Lucy tilted her head at him, filled with gratitude and touched beyond measure that he come back to the party to support her. “Wyatt, you…you didn’t have to..” 

Wyatt tightened his grip on her fingers, “No, Lucy. I was being selfish. I just…I should’ve been thinking about you and Rufus and not myself tonight.” He sighed again, “I’ve spent so much time telling myself I shouldn’t be celebrating when…ya know, Jess can’t…” he gave Lucy a sidelong glance, “I didn’t stop to think that other people might be feeling the same way.”

Lucy offering him an amused smile as she grasped his hand in both of hers, “So you are saying you came all the way back to Mason so that I wouldn’t have to suffer alone?”

“Suffer?” Wyatt said with a smirk, “I hate to break it to you ma’am, but I didn’t drag my ass all the way back here to suffer…I came here to have a good time.”

Lucy looked around, bemused “By moping with me in the hallway?”

“Hell no. I saw you slip out of there and thought you might be trying to make your escape.” Wyatt scoffed as he stood up and offered Lucy a hand up. Taking his hand, Lucy got to her feet and followed Wyatt as he opened the door to the warehouse for her, winking as he did so, “I’m just glad you didn’t go too far...no way in hell was I going to be left by myself with this crowd.”

“Rufus would’ve kept you company.” Lucy quirked her eyebrow at him but at Wyatt’s sneer she added playfully, “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little…” Lucy took in the sights surrounding them, every surface covered in red, green and gold, every guest decked out in their garish holiday attire, mistletoe hanging throughout, “…okay, a lot of holiday cheer?”

“Well, considering that I’ve avoided it for five damn years, I kind of need someone to help me navigate the waters…someone who does not look like they just came from the damn North Pole.”

“Well, it is a Christmas party, Wyatt.” Lucy lectured.

He pointed to her sweater, “Yes, but…”

“Ah…I see, It’s the ugly Christmas sweater thing, isn’t it?” She nodded knowingly while attempting to keep her expression serious, “Between you and me, I hate them too…why do you think I didn’t wear one?” She scoffed, “Amy always wore this appallingly hideous sweater that actually played music.” Lucy rolled her eyes as she let out a small laugh as she took in the garish sights around them, “I suppose this is jumping into the deep end a bit.”

“Just a bit.” Wyatt agreed. 

Lucy took in his appearance; a blue flannel button up shirt, a pair of khakis…he stood out like a sore thumb. “But if you’re going to be attending a Christmas party, you need to at least look like you’re actually attending a Christmas party.” She picked up a discarded Santa hat from the table and shimmied it down on his head, “There. You look festive already.” He gave her a teasing glare as she eyed him satisfactorily.

“Great.” Wyatt said with a half-smirk, torn between wanting to rip the hat off of his head and loving the fact that it was Lucy who bestowed it on him. “But this is as far as I go. I won’t be caught dead in one of those getups that Rufus is wearing.”

“I know what you mean. There’s Christmas spirit and then there’s…”

“Being epically cool?” Rufus interrupted as he approached the two of them. Wyatt wasn’t sure what drew his attention more, Rufus’ blinking Christmas sweater or the elf hat complete with elf ears firmly planted on his head. “I had no idea you were such a Scrooge, Lucy.”

She rolled her eyes at Rufus and smirked at Wyatt who was now leaning against the wall casually. “Very funny, Rufus. I happen to love Christmas…” she and Wyatt exchanged knowing glances, “I just don’t understand the ugly Christmas sweater obsession.”

“That makes two of us.” Wyatt said with a nod.

“I thought you liked my ugly Christmas sweaters?” Jessica asked.

Wyatt startled and spun around, his head absolutely reeling as panic once again mounted in his chest. He thought it had all been a damn dream…or was he still dreaming? What the hell was going on? His eyes darted around the crowded refreshment table, finally resting on Jessica who was smirking at him satisfactorily. 

“Wyatt? Wyatt?” Lucy’s voice called his attention away momentarily. He looked back at her, stunned and obviously unnerved which caused Lucy to grab his arm in concern. He gripped onto her in return. No way in hell was this a dream, Lucy was too damn real. “Wyatt, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

He turned once more to the spot where he had seen Jessica only to find that she wasn’t there. His eyes scanned the rest of the room, in an attempt to spot her again, but it was no use…she was gone. “I’m…I’m not sure.”

Rufus handed Wyatt some punch, “Dude, you need to relax. This is a Christmas party. You look about as jumpy as you do on our missions.”

Wyatt kept looking over his shoulder as Lucy held onto his arm, searching his face in concern, “Do you need anything?”

“Sorry.” Wyatt muttered as he shook his head, “I’ve just…I’ve had one hell of a night.”

“You look like you’ve seen a damn ghost.” Rufus observed as he took a drink of punch. 

“I have.” Wyatt answered but upon seeing the alarmed faces of both Lucy and Rufus he cleared his throat and amended, “I mean…I feel like I have.” Lucy and Rufus exchanged glances and Wyatt took a sip of the punch, grateful to find that it had a healthy dose of alcohol in it. “I feel like maybe saving Charles Dickens tonight might have messed with my damn head.” 

Rufus exchanged another look with Lucy who gave him a warning glare, “Yeah, well…I’m sorry about all those Scrooge jokes, Wyatt. I didn’t realize you were on the verge of a breakdown.” Lucy elbowed him roughly in the ribs, “Ow…I just really wanted you to come to the party tonight.”

An awkward silence arose among the three of them as Wyatt took another swig of his spiked punch and Lucy bit her lip, frustrated at Rufus for needling Wyatt when he looked like he was just about ready to bolt as it was. Desperate to keep the conversation going without broaching any taboo topics of dead wives, erased sisters or depressing holiday songs, Lucy piped up, “Did you know that much of Dickens’ inspiration for Ebenezer Scrooge came from Thomas Malthus?” Rufus looked at her blankly, “He was a very famous political economist.” Lucy explained with a flushed cheek. 

“Uh-huh…well let me just say, Lucy,” Rufus quipped with a smack of his lips, “I wasn’t gonna give you the spiked punch before, but now you just convinced me that it’s gonna be absolutely necessary.” He nudged Wyatt, “I bet these history lessons will be a hell of a lot more interesting when she’s drunk off her ass.”

Wyatt let out a small chuckle, but instead of joining Rufus in his teasing, Wyatt took one look at an annoyed Lucy, grabbed her by the hand and pulled her out to the dance floor, looking over his shoulder at a gaping Rufus as he did so, “Thanks for the punch, Rufus…we’ll see you later.”

As they reached the center of the floor and he placed his hands around Lucy’s waist, she stared up at him in marked surprise. Tentatively, she snaked her arms over his shoulders and Wyatt gulped nervously. He had been in all kinds of situations with Lucy before. Hell, they had even played an undercover couple, culminating in a kiss in front of the Bonnie and Clyde, but this? Standing close together, swaying slowly to music, surrounded by other couples who were either making out or nuzzled into each other’s necks? They had never done this and he was almost regretting that he had been so emboldened by Rufus’ conversation and that glass full of holiday spirit. 

Almost. 

Bobby Darin’s voice rang out loud and clear as they began swaying in time to the music of _Christmas Auld Lang Syne_. Lucy cast her eyes down, her cheeks flushed with either embarrassment or…something else. Wyatt cleared his throat, “I’m sorry…I guess I should have asked you if you wanted to dance.”

Lucy quirked her lip at him “I thought you needed help navigating through this holiday party?” She chuckled, “It appears you’re the one navigating me.”

“Maybe I just needed a mission, ma’am.”

“Oh…am I mission now?” she teased, “I didn’t realize I was that pathetic.” 

Wyatt threw back his head in exasperation, “That’s not what I meant.” He tugged her slightly closer as he leaned his head forward to touch hers, “I just…I just needed a reason to be here.”

Lucy’s eyes darted to his, “Oh…”she breathed out shakily. They danced in silence for a short while, both of them too nervous to or too full of emotion to speak, but finally the awkwardness became too much and Lucy clenched her eyes shut as she asked, “Wyatt, what’s going on?”

Wyatt pulled slightly away and took in Lucy’s concerned expression. He gave her a sheepish smile as he muttered, “Would you believe me if I told you I had my own Christmas carol kind of night tonight?”

“I thought you said you had a nightmare?” Lucy asked uneasily.

“Wyatt lifted a hand from Lucy’s waist and rubbed it across his face, “I don’t know what the hell it was. All I know is that it was a damn wake up call.”

“How so?” Lucy asked quietly, eyeing him with concern. 

“I don’t know…”Wyatt began uncomfortably, “I just…realized that I haven’t really been living my life since Jessica died.” He nodded sullenly, “I don’t want to live a life full of regrets anymore.” 

His eyes searched hers as they stood there in the midst of dozens of couples, holding onto each other, barely swaying to the music anymore. Lucy was about to answer when Connor Mason’s amplified voice sounded through the warehouse. He was standing on a makeshift stage, microphone in hand, calling out jovially, “I want to thank each and every one of you for coming tonight and celebrating this glorious season with us. Now, more fun is to be had, but before it gets too late, I just wanted to share with you a few sage words from “The Man who Invented Christmas, himself….Charles Dickens.”

Wyatt let out an almost inaudible groan as they turned to face the stage where Mason was now holding out a book and adjusting his reading glasses on his face, It is a fair, even-handed, noble adjustment of things, that while there is infection in disease and sorrow, there is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good humour.” Mason looked up over his reading glasses at the room full of holiday makers around him as he quipped, “I think we’ve all had a good dose of that tonight…some more than others.” He noted as he pointed to a particularly rowdy area of the room. 

Clearing his throat he began, “Let us be of good cheer this holiday season. As a man who has gained and lost fortunes, I can tell you money isn’t everything…it’s the people around you who make the difference. Ebenezer Scrooge is all of us at some point in our life. There may be times where we forget to be kind, generous, and full of good humour, but my wish is that we remember no matter our sorrows what was said of Mr. Scrooge,” Mason returned his attention to his book as he read on, “he knew how to keep **Christmas** well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God bless Us, Every One!”

He shut the book with a flourish and gave a slight bow, “Enjoy the rest of the party and have a Merry Christmas, everyone.”

The room erupted in applause and stuttered echoes of Christmas greetings. Lucy turned once more to Wyatt and was startled to see he had tears in his eyes. Surprised by her own boldness, she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. When Wyatt looked back at her with surprise she smiled softly and whispered, “Merry Christmas, Wyatt.”

Wrapping her up in his arms, he gave her a warm hug before pressing a kiss of his own to her temple, “Merry Christmas, Lucy” he whispered back as he held her close. 

It might have been Dickens, maybe it was the holiday spirit…or maybe he was just going slightly mad, but Wyatt would swear for years on end that as he stood in the middle of Mason Industries, hugging Lucy to him like his life depended on it, he saw Jessica offering him a proud smile before disappearing once more in the sea of red and green sweaters that filled the room. 

Filled with a sense of peace he had not experienced in years, Wyatt felt that this Christmas was most definitely better than almost any he had known in his entire life. He felt needed, wanted, included…it was indeed, a Merry little Christmas now. Now that he was here…with Lucy and Rufus. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was desperately trying to finish this up before the movie! YAY! I hope you enjoyed my take on the Dickens classic. I just wanted to do something fun with it. Thank you for reading and as always, reviews are welcome!


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